"HOW COULD I HELP GOING!"
CHRISTMAS was over. The tree had been quite a success, and though
Christina could not get permission to have Susy as a guest, she was
allowed to take her some presents from it.
The children were left much alone, owing to the many guests staying
in the house. They saw very little of them. Every morning, if fine,
Christina went up and down the drive on her grey pony. And to her great
delight she was losing her fear, and really feeling at ease in her
saddle. Puggy would fly off on his own account. He never seemed to come
to harm; though his arms and legs were always liberally supplied with
bumps and bruises.
One afternoon the children walked together into the village; Puggy
wanted to invest in some putty which he liked to get at the carpenter's
shop. He was wonderfully ingenious with his fingers, and modelled all
kinds of queer articles from a bit of clay or putty. Christina wanted
to get a glimpse of Susy. She knew that she was still in the village,
for her father had not been well, and Christina was always afraid that
they would go off suddenly, without wishing her good-bye.
As they came up to the outskirts of the village, Christina's quick eyes
spied out the hawker's cart and horse standing outside an empty barn.
"Oh, I believe Susy is in the barn," she exclaimed, and then stopped
short in terror, for a child's frantic cries rang out:
"Oh, dad, you're killing me! Help! Help! Let me go!"
A shriek of agonizing pain followed.
"He's drunk and he's beating her," announced Puggy.
Like a small whirlwind Christina dashed into the barn. Susy was crying
for help, and Susy was in danger. Those two facts were enough for her.
She flung herself between Susy and her father and seized her little
friend by the arm.
"You're killing her! Stop it!" she cried with blazing eyes.
But the hawker was mad with drink. He had the butt end of his whip
in his hand and was belabouring his small daughter most cruelly. Her
forehead was cut and bleeding and one of her arms hung by her side
as if it were broken. When Christina came in his way, in blind rage
he struck out at her and felled her to the ground. Then he seemed to
realize what he had done; flinging his whip from him, he staggered out
of the barn and stumbling up into his cart drove off, leaving Christina
unconscious on the ground and Susy kneeling by her side.
Puggy came in and stood for a moment not knowing what to do.
"She's dead, she's dead!" cried Susy. "And 'twas trying to save me. Oh,
bring a doctor quick, quick! 'Twas just like this mother got the blow
she died of."
Puggy tore up the village then for his life, and soon returned with the
two first persons whom he met, Miss Bertha and the blacksmith.
"She's only stunned, I think," said Miss Bertha cheerfully, trying to
reassure herself and the two children. "Bring her to my house, Taylor,
I am not far away; and, Puggy, you run to Doctor Randal's. He is home,
fortunately. I saw him drive in just now. Why, Susy, little woman,
you're in a bad way! You must come with me too. We'll soon put you both
right, please God. Come along."
Cheery Miss Bertha led the way to her small cottage, Taylor the
blacksmith carrying Christina in his arms.
"That fellow ought to be in gaol!" he remarked. "He'll kill his child
before he's done with her, and now he's had the impudence to attack
Missy. What 'll the Squire say, I'm thinkin'!"
"I think you might send one of your boys with a message to him, but
don't alarm them too much. Tell them she is with me, and I will do all
that is necessary."
"I expect the young gent will have got there already," said the
blacksmith.
"Ah yes! I forgot him. Then it will be all right."
Miss Bertha's tiny cottage was soon reached; and Christina was lifted
on to her own bed, whilst the good Lucy attended to Susy.
The doctor arrived very shortly, and before very long Christina opened
her eyes. She had received a very nasty blow, and Dr. Randal advised
her being put straight to bed and kept as quiet as possible.
Susy's arm was set, for a bone in it was broken; and the doctor
declared that her father ought to be committed to gaol before he did
any more mischief.
But she looked up pitifully at him as he spoke, saying, "He's my
father; sir, 'tis only the drink. He's awful sorry when he's sober."
And Dr. Randal fore-bore to say more in her presence.
Mr. Maclahan came down to the cottage almost immediately after the
doctor had left, but Miss Bertha begged him not to disturb his child.
"She is quite comfortable and going off to sleep; we feel that is the
best thing for her. Dr. Randal advises that she should not be moved. I
hope you will let me have the pleasure of keeping her. I will take the
utmost care of her."
"Do you know how it happened? Where is the rascal that dared raise
his hand against her? A delicate, highly-strung child like that to be
subjected to such brutal treatment! I would like to give him a sound
thrashing!"
"She interfered on her little friend's behalf, I gather, from Puggy's
account. There is not much doubt about her pluck, is there? I always
felt that she had a reserve force of which she herself knew nothing.
Are you determined to see her? Come this way and step softly, so as not
to disturb her."
Maclahan went into the bedroom, and looked at his sleeping child with
tender eyes. Then he came out, wrung Miss Bertha's hand gratefully and
strode off down the village in search for the drunken hawker.
When Christina woke up the nest morning, beyond an aching head there
was not much the matter with her. Her first thought was of Susy.
"Where is she, please? Oh, she was dreadfully hurt, I know she was!"
"She is getting on comfortably," said Miss Bertha—"in fact, if you are
very good, you shall see her this afternoon. She is staying in the
house. I have two little guests, you see."
But later on, when Miss Bertha went to find Susy, she was missing. And
Lucy put a slip of paper into her mistress' hand.
"'Tis rather a scrawl, ma'am. Perhaps you may be able to make it out.
I'm afraid she's slipped off after her father. She's been in a rare
taking over him, and seemed wonderful set on seeing Miss Christina this
morning. I said to her that she couldn't be disturbed.
"'I should like to thank her! I should like to thank her!' she kept
repeating.
"I said she would be able to do it later on.
"And she shook her head, 'I can't wait. It will be too late!'
"I didn't know what she was meaning, but now I see she meant to go off.
'Tis very ungrateful, and she's not fit to tramp off yet awhile!"
Miss Bertha took the bit of paper. It was badly written and badly
spelt, but tears were in her eyes as she deciphered it.
"I thanks you all, hand my biggest thanks to Miss Tener for I nose her
luvs me, hand I luvs her for evermor, but dad as nobuddy and i must fin
him and luv him lik muther toled me i was to and I ses good by for we
wonte be bak here agen for the perlesse will katch him Loosee said dad
wud be kort, and he don't mene to hert.
"SUSY."
She showed the paper to Christina, who looked at it long and earnestly.
When she raised her eyes to Miss Bertha's, they were glowing with
enthusiasm.
"Susy is the bravest girl in the whole world I believe, isn't she, Miss
Bertha? I think she's quite as brave as Joan of Arc!"
Miss Bertha gave one of her happy laughs.
"And what about you, Childie?"
"Oh, I couldn't do it!"
Christina's tone was passionate in its earnestness.
"If I was to find myself turned into Susy, I should run away as fast as
I could from my father, and that would be dreadfully wicked, wouldn't
it?"
"Then, darling, what made you go up to him as you did?"
"Oh, but that was different. Oh, Miss Bertha, he was killing poor Susy;
I really thought he was. I had to get her away from him. How could I
help going?"
Miss Bertha was silent, then she laid her hand on Christina's head and
said very softly and reverently:
"'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for
his friends!' You understand that principle, Childie. We must not let
any one call you a little coward after this."
Christina looked puzzled. She was still more so after a visit from her
stepmother and Puggy.
Mrs. Maclahan put her hand under her chin and raised her face to hers.
"Let us have a look at you! Do you know the whole village has made you
into a heroine? It's a pity Puggy here wasn't a little more prompt. I
would rather have heard that he had accomplished the rescue than you!
How did you do it, Tina? I shall begin to think your timidity is all
humbug. What do you say, Miss Bertha?"
"Dawn knows Christina better than any of us," said Miss Bertha quietly.
He says: "Christina is frightened, but she doesn't funk!"
Mrs. Maclahan nodded brightly.
"Well her father is quite proud of her. He puts it down to Scotch
blood. Why is it, Miss Bertha, that the Scotch think themselves so
immeasurably superior to us poor English? I tell my husband that I
wonder he ever condescended to marry me; but I suppose he considers
that an inferior wife is only what is right and proper! What big eyes,
Tina! I'm sure you don't understand a word of my talk, do you? How's
the poor head?"
"Oh, she is getting on very well, only I want to have the pleasure of
nursing her for a few days," said Miss Bertha.
"It's very good of you. She seems quite happy. Now, Puggy, stay and
talk to her a little, and, Miss Bertha, take me round your garden. I
hear your violets are appearing even now."
Miss Bertha took Mrs. Maclahan round, talking as she went of many
things. When Mrs. Maclahan eventually took her leave, she said
impulsively:
"I wish I had what you have. I always feel so ignorant when I'm with
you. And how is it you get the children's love? My riotous Puggy, who
scorns most women-folk, thinks all the world of you."
"Perhaps because I think all the world of him!" said Miss Bertha,
smiling. "I could not be happy without flowers and children."
Search was made at once for Susy and her father, but both of them had
disappeared. Whether the child had come across her father on the road,
or whether she had tramped along on his track, remained a question.
It was pretty certain that they had left the beaten road and taken to
by-lanes.
Christina was bitterly disappointed, but was quite positive that she
would see Susy again.
"I'm sure I shall," she asserted. "Susy told me they often came past
our village, and they'll come past it again, and perhaps one day,
Miss Bertha, God will make Susy's father a good man. He can, can't
He? And Susy and I are both asking Him to do it. And then he'll give
up drinking and p'r'aps live in a little cottage and go to church on
Sundays and be kind to Susy."
"Yes, pray on, Childie. Nothing is impossible with God," said Miss
Bertha with her cheery little nod.
Christina thoroughly enjoyed her week with Miss Bertha. She trotted
about the house and delighted in making herself useful, helping Lucy to
dust, feeding Miss Bertha's fowls, and weeding the gravel paths in the
little garden.
"There's nothing I can do at home," she confided to Miss Bertha,
"because we have too many servants. There's our turret room—Puggy and
I scrubbed and cleaned that out the other day; but Connie scolded me
because I got my pinafore wet, and said I oughtn't to do it. I wish we
lived in a little cottage like this!"
"You are a happy little girl as you are; don't wish for what you have
not got."
The day Christina returned home she was greeted by Puggy vociferously.
"I'm just longing to tell you the news! We're all going up to London.
Think of that! And we shall see Dawn and go sight-seeing. And we're
going to-morrow. Hurray!"
Christina could hardly believe it. She had never in all her life been
away from her home, and at first the terrors of the unknown seized hold
of her.
"Isn't London a very full place, Puggy?" she asked timidly, as the two
children sat down to their schoolroom tea. "I've heard Nurse say there
was no room to walk in the streets, because there were such a lot of
people!"
"Yes, it's crowded, that makes the fun," was the reply.
"And trains and omnibuses and carts are all rushing about everywhere!"
continued Christina with a sinking heart.
"Yes, and policemen stand in the middle of the streets to help people
cross, and the shops are ripping, and we're going to stay at a hotel!"
"What's that?"
"Fancy not knowing what a hotel is like! It's a place with huge rooms
to live in and jolly good grub to eat, and any amount of people coming
and going."
"I like little houses better than big ones," announced Christina. "I
think I shall be afraid of so many people."
"Oh, you're afraid of everything—at least—" Puggy pulled himself up. "I
promised the Squire I wouldn't say that to you; but you're an awfully
queer girl, Tina. You're afraid of such a lot of silly things, and not
afraid when you ought to be!"
"Go on and tell me more about London," said Christina hastily. "Shall
we see Dawn, do you think?"
"Of course we shall. Ena says we can have him to lunch one day at the
hotel if we like. Why, it'll be too jolly for anything!"
"Well, I'll try to like it," said Christina, resolving to swallow her
fears and only think of the pleasure of seeing Dawn again.
She found Connie full of delight and importance at being included in
the party.
"The mistress has told me I'm to be your maid and look after you, and
as long as I don't have to manage Master Puggy I don't care. I've never
been to London in my life. It'll be a great thing for me!"
Christina hardly understood how it was that every one that evening
seemed to make so much of her. To her mind, what she had done for Susy
seemed only what any one would have done. She did not consider herself
a heroine, but the servants and even her father and mother alluded
to it with pride in their tones, and all received her back with the
warmest welcome. Mrs. Hallam, who seldom had much to say to the little
girl, stooped and kissed her when she saw her.
"We're thankful to see you none the worse for that brute's blow!" she
said. "And we're proud of you, Miss Tina; to think you stood up against
the cowardly bully, when there's many a grown person would have thought
twice of interfering with a man mad with drink!"
"But Susy was being hurt!" Christina exclaimed. "You wouldn't have let
her be hurt if you'd been there, Mrs. Hallam!"
Mrs. Hallam made no reply. She did not feel at all sure in her own mind
that she would have interfered.
"I should have sent the policeman," she agreed to herself. "What's
the good of having one in the village if he's not to the fore at such
times!"
When Christina was in bed that night her father came up to wish her
good-night.
"Is the head all right?" he asked. "Because you will want to be fit in
London. No headache now?"
"No father."
Christina took hold of his hand and put it between her cheek and the
pillow.
"You're going to be with us in London to take care of us, aren't you?"
she asked.
"Yes, I am, I believe," her father replied, smiling.
"Oh!" said Christina, looking up at him with deep feeling. "What should
I do if I had to take care of you, instead of you taking care of me!"
Her father laughed heartily.
Christina blushed, then hastened to explain herself.
"Susy's father never takes care of her—never! She has to look after
him. Don't you think Susy a wonderful girl, father?"
"I think she is a poor little unfortunate child, and the sooner she is
taken away from her father the better, I should say! But I want you to
put those people clean out of your head, Christina; don't give them a
thought! Forget them altogether."
"But," said Christina slowly, "Susy is in my heart, not in my head, and
I can't put her out from there. I love her, father, and we mean to sit
next to each other in Heaven if God will let us; do you think He will,
father?"
"Those are questions for Miss Bertha, not for me," said her father
hastily, and then he wished her good-night and left her.